


Impossible Color

by veivei



Series: Aoba FTW [14]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: M/M, Post-Ketsu, Post-Series, Sad Mikado
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 21:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11745099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veivei/pseuds/veivei
Summary: "What do you imagine I could do?"“Look at him the way you sometimes look at me, Aoba-kun. As if you admired him so much,” Mikado said.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't very close to canon or anything. Sorry.

Aoba never wanted to land himself in a situation such as this, he thought bitterly, staring down from the pedestrian bridge. Heiwajima was just passing under it with that other debt collector at his side. His blond hair made Aoba think of someone else and his heart skipped a beat. He took a deep breath to take a hold of himself.

He loathed Orihara for ending up like he had, beaten to death by that man, out of his own volition at that, while trying to convince the rest of humanity that Heiwajima was a monster. Why would that be so important? Aoba could understand having goals, even goals incomprehensible to anyone else, and doing whatever it took to achieve them, but he could not understand that. Orihara being gone was a good thing for him, obviously, but it was also unsettling when he thought back to something he’d once seen, while hidden in the shadows of this city as he was prone to be, looking over the happenings, his presence and influence concealed. He’d seen Orihara pressed against the wall by Heiwajima in a dark back alley with his bare legs hooked around him and he’d been as disgusted by that particular discovery as he would have expected anyone to be. But considering something like that had been going on, how sound had been Orihara’s decision-making around the time before his disappearance exactly, he wondered.

How sound was his own now, he thought when a warm hand landed on his shoulder.

“What are you looking at?” he was asked good-naturedly.

What, indeed? Their future? Was this how this was going to end for him as well, he thought, watching Heiwajima disappear in the distance, looking just fine and not the least bit bothered that Orihara was gone.

Masaomi wrapped an arm around Aoba from behind and pulled him close.

“Don’t stare at people from above, Aoba,” he said. “Don’t act like that haughty bastard.”

Why mention him all of a sudden, Aoba thought.

“Do I make you think of him, Masaomi?” he asked.

One day, would Masaomi make him bear the brunt of his hatred both for him and for Orihara, Aoba wondered.

“Not really,” Masaomi answered, turning Aoba around to face him. “Only when you choose to act like him.”

There were a lot of things about him Masaomi didn’t actually like, Aoba thought, looking up into Masaomi’s eyes, even if he wasn’t aware of that yet. Maybe the only thing he did like was the facade Aoba had made up to ensnare him in the first place.

Aoba smiled an enthusiastic smile that Masaomi returned before leaning down to kiss him on the lips.

Not that long time ago they had been enemies. And Aoba knew they were going to be enemies again one day, maybe sooner than either of them expected. On that day, he didn’t plan to restrain his ruthlessness of course. Could he even trust himself anymore though?

\---

Several weeks prior he’d encountered Kida in person for the second time in his life.

“Bastard,” Kida’s angry voice followed Aoba as he walked away towards Mikado’s hospital room.

He felt tired. Getting threatened in short succession both by a yakuza executive and the leader of a rival gang would have done that to anyone, he figured. As soon as he was sure he disappeared from Kida and Anri’s sight, he let the mask of confidence slip from his face and walked on down the corridor with slumped shoulders and a slight scowl. Even though he didn’t like to show himself like that to the world. He felt too small then, true to his actual looks, and too easily thwarted. It was not true, since he still had his gang at his fingertips and a general ability to mess up anyone who got on his bad side but he usually didn’t even want the onlookers to get any ideas. It was just that at this point he was too weary for much posturing.

The hospital slippers on his feet were squeaking on the linoleum floors as he continued on his way to Mikado’s room. He no longer had any flowers to carry, having thrown the ones he’d come with to the floor in his anger at the way that yakuza old man had treated him, so he put his hands into his pockets to stop himself from looking like a polite little boy at the very least. Either way, one day even Awakusu-kai was going to be forced to recognize him as more than just a kid playing around, now that they knew about him and his dealings. He was already looking up to that day. But for now, for a moment there he’d really gotten scared of that man getting into his face like that and he’d let that fear show on his face to appease him.

Aoba might not have been exactly a coward but he’d seen that yakuza fight and he knew his own limitations well enough. On the other hand Kida Masaomi, tense and ready to strike if only they hadn’t been in the hospital, hadn’t scared him in the slightest. Even though it’d been the first time they had been talking to each other, he was just like Aoba had always imagined him to be. Rude and brash, Aoba suspected he would have really hit him right then and there if not for where they’d been and Anri’s presence by their side. Kida was obviously the kind of person Aoba could easily deal with. The only problem was Mikado’s attachment to him. Though maybe that was something he shouldn’t care about anymore. It was obvious Mikado wasn’t coming back to Blue Squares just like that after everything that’d happened and most of the Dollars was already gone, making him much less useful anyway.

Aoba reached the door and knocked, hoping there was no one but Mikado inside the room. Nobody answered. When he entered, the rays of the setting sun filtering in through the blinds from the window right opposite the door hit his face, blinding him momentarily. Steady beeping was resounding from the machines Mikado was hooked up to. Once he could see again, Aoba took in the sight. 

Mikado was laying in bed on his back, tucked in neatly, pale and motionless, his eyes closed, and breathing deeply as if he was asleep. The only visible injuries on him were the bruises on his face as if from a punch.

“Hi, senpai,” Aoba said informally, the way he’d never talked to Mikado when he’d been conscious.

Approaching Mikado’s bedside, Aoba thought how it had been a given Mikado was going to end up like this with the way he’d been acting, rushing head on wherever there had been danger and excitement. Aoba had used him, profiting from his propensity for self-destruction, and now there was nothing more left for him to use, All that was left was a boy in a coma in a hospital bed. Nothing much to see. And so Aoba shouldn’t care and he shouldn’t even be here.

Well, coming to the hospital might have been beneficial, he conceded, with both Awakusu-kai and Kida Masaomi showing him their true colors, for even while they had been trying to intimidate him, he had been getting a feel for them and getting to know things he could certainly use later. But actually coming to Mikado’s room had been unnecessary. And yet Aoba found himself strangely drawn to Mikado despite everything and unable to leave right away.

With a sigh he sat down on the chair next to Mikado’s bed. He took a look at all the flowers in the vases on the table by its side. Mikado was lucky to have such great friends, wasn’t he? And now that he’d reconciled with Kida, he probably didn’t need him for anything anymore. The thought of Mikado getting involved with Yellow Scarves for a change felt foreign and strange but it wasn’t out of the question either. Maybe the two of them were yet to end up on the opposite sides in another gang war. That thought excited Aoba at the same time as it was making him the tiniest bit wistful. He figured, even while both he and Mikado would have considered it unimportant if asked, that he’d been Mikado’s friend for a time, at least on the surface level. The two of them had been hanging out together, even if the circumstances had been unusual and Aoba had to admit he cherished some of that time, something he let himself do. Being lonely and unlikable wasn’t his goal after all. And maybe that was why he was here. Maybe Mikado wasn’t supposed to be a used up toy but a fallen comrade. Aoba wasn’t sure if he should let himself think things like that. It felt a bit extreme.

“Well, Mikado-senpai,” he spoke up. “I guess you should wake up. Get it on with Anri-senpai,” he talked with a smile that wasn’t genuine but appeared on his face out of habit, faking it not even taking any effort. “You sacrificed so much for her. You’re like this because of what you did for her. But now she might fall for someone else. And wouldn’t that be the worst possible outcome?”

After all, there was no denying Kida was the kind of guy girls liked. He’d also already had a girlfriend even three years ago, at fourteen, as Aoba was well aware of because of the incident involving her and what was currently Aoba’s gang, so he apparently had a way with girls, too.

Mikado didn’t answer and didn’t move.

“Or do you want to be forced to try something again with me, senpai?” Aoba asked, his smile turning coy.

He pressed his hand to his mouth and moved it away as if it’d been burned when he felt his lips brush the scar on his palm. Stuffing his hand back into his pocket, he thought back to his third kiss after the two awkward ones with Orihara sisters, to the determination in Mikado’s eyes when he pulled him close that night. He’d asked Mikado where he had even learned to kiss once it’d been over. Mikado had said it was a secret. Aoba had an inkling of an idea, though. Apparently, Kida had a way with boys, too.

That kiss had been a one-time occurrence. Mikado had apologized to him profusely the following day. It never happened again. Aoba had still sometimes teased Mikado about it when the two of them had been alone but that had been the extent of it. And it was fine by him. He never needed things to get needlessly complicated in the first place.

“You’d better wake up soon, Mikado-senpai,” he said once again.

Then, unsure what more he could do or say, he forced himself to get up from the chair, even though he felt like staying for some reason. Once he was by the door he turned around. The sun blinded him again. He closed his hand around the door handle.

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” he said before he actually thought it through. “Get well soon, senpai.”

Once the door closed behind him, he felt even more weary than before.

\---

The Blue Squares were celebrating. As Aoba was looking on from the beaten up couch standing in the middle of the abandoned warehouse, his gang was drunk on victory as much as on alcohol.

The scene in front of him was one of debauchery. Bare light bulbs were providing the illumination for the party, empty metal barrels were serving as tables and nearly everyone had a bottle in their hand. The smoke from numerous cigarettes was filling the air. Music was blaring inside the huge room from the speakers someone had brought, distorted by echo, not loud enough though to drown out conversations. There were even girls and dancing and couples making out in the shadows close to the walls.

Aoba had been holding a beer bottle in his hand for the better part of the evening, only taking careful sips now and then. The face he was showing to the world was too carefully put together to maintain while drunk. He didn’t want the alcohol on his breath upon going home to his mother either because he knew she would sneak into his room while he would already pretend to be asleep and sniff him. She always did that when he came back late. Most of his fellow gang members were pretty drunk though, stumbling around on unsteady legs, bumping into each other, looking for a hug or a fight. Aoba allowed himself a small scowl. There was nothing particularly amusing about sitting around and watching drunk people have fun while sober.

Yoshikiri plopped on the couch next to him with a bottle of sake in his hand and draped an arm around Aoba’s shoulders before Aoba could duck. From up close the alcohol was heavy on his breath and his eyes unfocused.

“Have a drink, Aoba.” He attempted to put the bottle to Aoba’s lips while holding him in place with one arm.

“Get lost, you sick fuck.” Aoba pushed him away. It was quite easy to do that for once, probably because of how drunk Yoshikiri was at this point.

“Sitting here all alone like that…” Yoshikiri muttered. “High and mighty leader, huh? Ever since Ryuugamine…”

“Shut up.” Aoba got up from the couch, leaving Yoshikiri behind.

Yoshikiri had a point though in that if Mikado was still around, Aoba wouldn’t have been sitting all alone. He would have been teasing Mikado about not drinking anything instead until Mikado, wanting to prove who knows what to who knows whom, would have really gotten drunk. Aoba could picture all of that perfectly in his mind, down to Mikado’s flustered face and his body slumping down boneless into Aoba’s arms at the end of the night.

But Mikado wasn’t here anymore, he was in a coma at the hospital and regardless of if he was ever going to wake up again he was most likely never coming back here anyway. He didn’t need to be mentioned. Or thought about.

Aoba started walking away, his grip tightening around the bottle in his hand.

“Where are you going, Aoba?” Yoshikiri called out from the couch.

“Home. It’s not like you lot need me for anything at this point,” Aoba answered over his shoulder with a shrug. “And I don’t want to miss the last train.” He headed towards the door of the warehouse, putting his beer away on one of the barrels on the way.

A girl taller than him tugged on the sleeve of his coat, pulled his hand toward her hip and held it there. She was only wearing a short dress and flat sandals, her thighs exposed.

Aoba looked up to her face quickly.

“You’re important around here, aren’t you?” she asked with a smile. Her face was flushed. “And you’re really cute.” She reached out her hand and ruffled his hair with a giggle. Judging by the shine in her eyes and the redness of her cheeks, she’d had too much to drink.

Aoba didn’t know her and couldn’t discern if she was somebody’s girlfriend or had just tagged here along with some friends. Her hair was dyed blond and she had some smudged makeup on her face that was making it difficult to tell her age. Aoba had a feeling she was just a little older than him, though. She looked like the kind of girl that hanged out with guys from color gangs. Her hipbone under the flimsy dress was burning Aoba’s hand and he cursed himself for being like that because while he could be suave with girls as long as they were keeping their distance, he lost most of his cool instantly as soon as one touched him.

“Oi, don’t get touchy feely with him.” Yoshikiri approached them. “He’s already fawned over by hot twin sisters from his school.”

“Two of them?” she asked with a giggle.

“Mostly one,” Aoba said with a smile that took a lot out of him to maintain.

That did the trick and the girl let go of his hand. He moved it away and stuck it into the pocket of his coat instantly.

“Aren’t you lucky,” the girl’s voice slurred when she said that.

“Well, yes.” Aoba shrugged. “But if you think I need a third girl, I can give you my number,” he said with a smile.

“Bastard.” Yoshikiri growled.

The girl giggled and took out her phone from her purse. She asked him to recite his number to her, ignoring Yoshikiri’s protests. Aoba did just that, if only to piss that idiot off.

“I’m calling you when I get home,” the girl said and shook her phone at Aoba.

“Sure.” He nodded. “Now, if you excuse me, I have somewhere to be,” he said and continued on his way to the door.

“One day I’ll punch that cute face of yours in, Aoba,” Yoshikiri hollered behind him.

Aoba paid him no mind, turned around to wave goodbye to the girl, exited the warehouse and once outside took a deep breath of the night time air, a welcome change after the moldy stench and the cigarette smoke.

It had been too easy, he thought. After all these years, Yellow Scarves should have given more than a token resistance before being crushed. But the gang the Blue Squares had won against had already lacked its best fighters and its very soul. Their Shogun hadn’t shown up either, despite threatening Aoba just a few weeks prior. Beating up the few remaining members running around disoriented and unsure if they should be wearing their yellow scarves at all was no big achievement and Aoba knew that. Still, crushing the Yellow was always going to be significant for the Blue. That was why he’d encouraged the celebration. And that was also why he’d started the fire in the abandoned building that had been the Yellow Scarves’ base himself. Watching it all burn had been exhilarating, akin to what he’d once done to Ran’s room. Did that mean he had hated the Yellow Scarves as badly? Was there even a rational reason for that? An image of Kida leaning down to claim Mikado’s lips flashed before Aoba's eyes. Even being this careful, he must have had too much to drink and the alcohol was messing with his head, he figured.

And what was Kida doing anyway? Why had he let his gang fall apart like that?

\---

“Kuronuma-kun, there is something I have to tell you.” Anri approached Aoba at school the following day.

He was sitting on a windowsill on the corridor. Doing that was frowned upon by the teachers. Kururi, in her gym clothes, rather inappropriate for daily wear, was by his side, leafing through a trashy gossip magazine, most likely in search of news about Hanejima Yuuhei. The two of them were giving off the impression of students someone like Anri wouldn’t have normally approached and she was appropriately flustered about it.

Aoba jumped down to the floor and smiled at her.

“What is it, Anri-senpai?” he asked, looking Anri right in the eye even as her gaze moved down to the floor instantly.

Aoba had always liked playing around with her. He hadn’t really been interested in her as a girl, especially not after he’d got to know that she was a Saika wielder, but he’d always enjoyed her stuttery reactions to his advances and Mikado’s badly covered jealousy.

“Ryuugamine-kun regained consciousness,” she said.

It had been weeks and it really seemed that it hadn’t been a given anymore that Mikado was ever going to wake up at all. Still, Aoba’s smile didn’t waver at the sudden news. He must have stayed silent way too long though.

“Great,” Kururi said in a barely there voice instead.

“Thanks for telling me, Anri-senpai,” Aoba finally spoke up. “I thought I was supposed to keep away from him, though.”

He didn’t say anything about his daily visits to the hospital or how he’d been planning to go later in the day.

“I still thought you should know,” Anri said timidly, still not meeting him gaze. “Because Ryuugamine-kun might want that.”

“I guess.” Aoba was still smiling. “Have you talked to him yet, Anri-senpai?”

Anri shook her head.

“When you meet him, tell him I hope he’ll be out of the hospital soon now that he’s woken up,” Aoba said.

“I will.” Anri nodded. “I have to go now.” She bowed in apology and rushed to leave, probably heeding some kind of warning from Kida about not interacting with Aoba more than necessary.

“See you sometime.” Aoba waved to her cheerfully.

She muttered something he couldn’t hear and walked away quickly.

Mikado was awake. The thoughts were racing through Aoba’s mind behind the facade of a polite smile. What did that mean? What was he going to say? And did that even matter anymore? Aoba couldn’t deny that he wanted to see Mikado. Maybe even that he’d missed him somewhat during those weeks. There was no way he was going to rush to his bedside right away though. Now that Mikado was awake, making him, and himself, wait for a few more days at the very least was in order. It was not like Mikado was leaving the hospital anytime soon anyway, even if he was awake. Aoba had overheard something about at least several more months just for his internal injuries during his visits.

“Visit?” Kururi asked from behind him.

“Yeah, I will visit him.” Aoba turned around to face her. “Not today though. I have something to do.”

“Cold.” She frowned.

“But you know that already, Kururi.” He smiled at her.

“Brother.”

“Do you mean I remind you of him or are there any news?” he asked, the thought of news about Orihara making him decidedly uneasy. The one good thing that had come out of all the commotion in Ikebukuro a few weeks prior had been Orihara’s disappearance, hopefully even death, though obviously that was something Aoba wasn’t going to voice in front of his sister, however little she and her twin might have seemed to care for their older brother.

“Remind.” She nodded.

“Why are you hanging out with me then?” Aoba asked with a dramatic sigh.

“Like,” Kururi said simply.

Aoba didn’t really know what to make of that confession. He looked Kururi in the eye but there was nothing on her face that would have helped him understand what she meant, just the usual melancholy, so he decided not to utter any declarations of his own.

In the evening he discovered that the Dollars were gone. He accessed the boards, just like he did several times every day, only to be greeted with a “Service Unavailable” message. The news on other services was that the Dollars boards had been closed forever. Apparently Mikado had shut down everything as soon as he’d woken up. Aoba was itching to hear his reasoning but the plan was to visit Mikado only at the start of next week and he was going to stick to that.

Friday afternoon Aoba’s phone rang and Mikado’s name was on the screen when he took the phone out of his pocket. That was the best possible outcome, he decided right away. Mikado had made the first step. It was well worth the wait. Aoba smiled to himself before answering the call.

“Hello, Mikado-senpai,” he said cheerfully.

He had just come home from school, so he dropped his bag, slid off his shoes with one hand and went into the living room to sit on the couch.

“Hello, Aoba-kun.” The voice in his phone made Aoba think of times before Mikado’s coma. It hadn’t been all that long time ago but it felt so because of how much had changed since then.

“I’m glad you woke up,” Aoba said earnestly into the phone.

“Thank you,” Mikado answered softly. “I’m calling you because I’ve heard you’d been coming here a lot.” His voice grew stronger.

Aoba’s smile wavered. Great, Mikado had heard from someone about that right away. But fine enough.

“Now that I’m awake you haven’t shown up for three days though,” Mikado continued. “Even though I’ve heard Sonohara-san had informed you about it.”

“Do you miss me, Mikado-senpai?”

“I’d just like to see you.”

“Kida-kun told me to stop bothering you, though. I’ve been visiting you but that was before you woke up. Now I can really get in trouble with him if I go see you again, so…”

“Masaomi won’t do anything to you, Aoba-kun.”

“And how do you know that, Mikado-senpai? He’s quite protective of you. And he blames me for much of what happened. Maybe he’s right, too.” Aoba smiled to himself.

“I doubt you’re actually afraid of him either way, Aoba-kun. And there’s something I really need to talk to you about. Not on the phone, though. Please come over as soon as you can.”

Aoba felt like pointing out there was no reason for him to listen to any kind of demands Mikado might have been making anymore. Now that he’d shut down the Dollars boards for good he wasn’t a leader of anything anymore and had nothing of value to make him a valid object of Aoba’s interest either.

“Today?” Aoba found himself asking still, while glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Yes,” Mikado answered.

Aoba hesitated and considered thinking up some excuse and making Mikado wait some more at least but he realized his curiosity was getting the better of him at this point anyway.

“Ok, I’ll be there,” he said in the end. “I’ll just change out of the uniform and I’m going. See you in a bit, Mikado-senpai.”

“Thank you,” Mikado whispered into the phone.

Aoba wondered what it was Mikado wanted to talk about but couldn’t really think of anything. Didn’t Mikado realize yet that his time was over at this point? Part of Aoba was eager to demonstrate that to him. 

And the other part should have just stayed quiet.


	2. Chapter 2

When Aoba entered Mikado’s room, wearing his normal clothes and his coat, Mikado was sitting in his hospital bed, still as pale as the white sheets, his eyes wide open and more vulnerable than Aoba had ever seen them.

“Masaomi wants to leave,” the anguish in Mikado’s voice sent chills down Aoba’s spine. Even while he wasn’t sure why he cared and how things had even escalated to this point at all.

“That’s why you needed me to visit you?” he asked.

“Come here.” Mikado patted the bed next to him.

He was only this accommodating because he wanted something, Aoba thought.

“No, thank you.” He shook his head. “So that’s why he disbanded the Yellow Scarves,” he reasoned. “It’s because he wants to leave.”

“The last time around he did the same thing.” Mikado was actually shaking. “He dropped out of school and was just gone.”

“Well, that’s too bad, Mikado-senpai,” Aoba said carefully, standing some distance away from Mikado because it seemed to him that if he was within reach, Mikado might have grabbed him and done who knows what to him. “But I don’t see how I…”

“You have to stop him.” Mikado looked up at Aoba with eyes that were pleading as much as demanding.

A shiver ran down Aoba’s back when he realized they were shining faintly red.

He tried to muster some anger at being treated like that even though he was no longer Mikado’s underling and had never volunteered anyway to solve Mikado’s personal problems, but somehow he was unable to do that under that kind of gaze.

“Your eyes are turning red,” he pointed out.

Mikado touched his brow tentatively.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said and shook his head. “I can’t control you with that.”

“I don’t even know Kida.” Aoba shrugged, doing his best to keep his cool. “I met him a total of two times and it’s not like he was particularly friendly at either occasion. We’re technically enemies, too.”

Mikado’s hands clutched the comforter.

“There is no one else I can ask, Aoba-kun,” he said. “Sonohara-san isn’t the right person.”

“She can stop him from leaving, though. Literally. With that sword of hers.” Aoba said, not particularly caring about hurting Mikado’s feelings.

It had been a bad idea to come here at all, he realized. Mikado had lost it. He was a wreck at this point, possibly one possessed by a supernatural entity at that. And now he wanted to drag Aoba into his problems as if Aoba owed him something. But Aoba didn’t feel indebted to him at all and he didn’t want to have anything to do with any of that. Now that the Yellow Scarves had been defeated, he had no interest in Kida anymore, either.

“Sonohara-san wouldn’t do something like that to Masaomi,” Mikado said. “And she has no other way to stop him. But you… I know how you are, Aoba-kun.” He looked Aoba in the eye calmly, his own eyes no longer red. “You can make people do what you want. Even Masaomi. Even if he’s your foe.”

“I failed at making you do what I wanted, Mikado-senpai.”

“Did you?” Mikado asked with a small smile.

“Even if it was for the better in the end, I did.”

“Maybe. But Masaomi is a way more straightforward person than me in a way.”

“Then why won’t you make him stay yourself? If it’s so easy?” Aoba asked, his voice turning mocking.

“Because I’m stuck here.” Mikado’s smile turned heartbreakingly sad. “And he’ll only come here one more time. To say goodbye to me.”

“And? What do you imagine I could do?”

“Look at him the way you sometimes look at me, Aoba-kun. As if you admired him so much.”

Aoba knew what Mikado meant. And he wasn’t impressed at all. He knew how he looked and what some other guys were thinking of him well enough. And it seemed surreal that Mikado was suggesting using any of that to his advantage, for Mikado’s sake.

“I don’t admire him,” he said right away.

“Did you ever honestly admire me?”

Aoba had but he would have never admitted it aloud with any honesty. Mikado probably knew that well enough but he wouldn’t have said anything about it.

“And how will that stop him from leaving?” Aoba asked.

“He wouldn’t want to break your heart, once…”

“He’s all for breaking yours, Mikado-senpai.”

“Because he thinks I should be with Sonohara-san. He wants to go away so he doesn’t interfere.”

“Is he right about you and her?”

“That’s besides the point.” Mikado shook his head, a bit too eagerly.

Aoba’s eyes narrowed.

“Do you realize what you’re asking me to do?” he asked. “How do you know he… Did you sleep with him?”

Mikado became very red instantly which sufficed for an answer. Unless it was all a game for him.

“What does he like?” Aoba inquired, if only to enjoy Mikado’s worsening embarrassment.

“I guess just…” Mikado actually spoke up, which was amazing. Was he really going to tell him? “Act innocent.”

‘Just like you would?’ Aoba wanted to ask. This was more fucked up than he would have ever imagined. And he should have left at that point, laughing at Mikado’s stupidity, but before he could a knock on the door resounded inside the room.

It startled him bad enough to make him jump because of how on edge he was.

“It must be Masaomi,” Mikado said. “Do your best, Aoba-kun.”

The anger that hadn’t been there before erupted now and Aoba considered simply storming out of the room. Mikado was playing around with him, he thought, and breaching boundaries no sane person would have ever touched while at it.

Kida entered the room and stopped right next to the door as soon as he realized who was already there.

Aoba turned to look at him and felt instantly jealous of how cool he was looking, with his height and his dyed hair and his earrings and of how much he must have meant to Mikado for him to be acting like that to try to stop him from leaving.

“What is he doing here?” Kida spat out with betrayal written across his face, looking about ready to turn around and leave the room, too.

“Aoba-kun wanted to talk to you, Masaomi,” Mikado said right away.

Aoba felt like protesting at that kind of treatment but he didn’t want to make a fool out of himself in front of Kida.

“I have nothing to talk to him about,” Kida said. “Besides what I told him already.” 

“Kida-senpai,” Aoba spoke up, turning around to face Kida. “I heard you’re about to run away again.”

“Why did you tell him that?” Kida looked at Mikado.

“Mikado-senpai thought I should know,” Aoba continued. “Because I always wanted to meet you properly. Since you’re a person Mikado-senpai respects so much. And also for my own reasons.” Aoba still wasn’t sure why he was going along with this. He felt shame burning deep inside him at making such a show of deference out of himself in front of his rival. And Mikado wasn’t worth that kind of humiliation anyway, he reminded himself. Still, he looked up at Kida with admiration and curiosity in his eyes, smoothing out his features otherwise.

“I think you should leave, Kuronuma,” Kida said, the anger gone from his voice. He looked puzzled instead.

Him falling for such a slight change in Aoba’s expression felt like triumph, Aoba realized. He always enjoyed influencing others like that.

“I want him to stay,” Mikado spoke up from behind Aoba’s back.

“Mikado, what’s up with inviting him here at all?” Kida looked clearly exasperated. “I told him to stay away from you. And that would be for the best.”

“Since you’re leaving, I can’t really afford to lose any more friends, Masaomi,” Mikado said.

“That won’t make me stay, you know,” Kida started sounding angry. “If you choose to be friends with the likes of him, go ahead. But I already warned him what will happen if he ever tries to involve you in anything suspicious again.”

“And how will you keep me in line exactly, Kida-senpai?” Aoba spoke up. “ While being away? And with your gang gone?”

“Nothing’s gone, Kuronuma,” Kida growled. “I still have people around here I can trust.”

Aoba’s eyes narrowed. The era of color gangs was apparently coming to an end. So there might have still been Yellow Scarves around, he thought, just not in name and no longer wearing much yellow. And what Blue Squares had defeated might have been just a facade like he had suspected all along.

“I don’t want to involve you and Anri-chan in anything dangerous again, Mikado,” Kida explained. “That’s why I have to leave for now. Because I can’t cut my ties with that side of things yet. That’s something I realized. Me and Saki can’t get by otherwise since we can’t count on our families and we both dropped out of school, so it’s either that or some kind of an institution until we’re both adults and I wouldn’t allow that to happe. We have no choice.”

“You can’t do this to me again,” Mikado whispered. “And there are other ways,” he added.

“No, Mikado, this is what I have to do,” Kida insisted. He was still standing right next to the door. “I’ll see you again,” he said hopefully and apparently waited for some answer from Mikado. But when he didn’t get it for the next several minutes, he finally turned around and left the room.

Aoba looked at Mikado once the door closed behind Kida. Mikado was sitting with his head hanging low and his fists clenched in his lap and trembling. But when he looked up his face was all determination.

“Make him stay, Aoba-kun,” he said.

And Aoba, despite the alarms going off in his head, obeyed his demanding gaze for some undecipherable reason, opened the door, went out of the room and followed Kida down the corridor, rushing to catch up to him and keep up by his side.

“What do you want?” Kida asked him, his voice brimming with aggression.

“I want to talk to you, Kida-senpai.”

“We have nothing to talk about. I said that already.”

“You’re leaving the Yellow Scarves behind. The important parts, at least.”

“Yes, so you better stay away from Mikado.” Kida stopped walking and looked at Aoba over his shoulder. “I mean it.” His eyes were shooting daggers at Aoba now and his hair was almost white under the fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor. The situation was mirroring their meeting a few weeks ago almost exactly, except it was just the two of them.

Aoba wasn’t particularly worried about Kida’s threats, though. Or whatever those remnants of the Yellow Scarves could do. Toramaru and Dragon Zombie were still bigger and more immediate concerns of his. And he hadn’t been planning to involve Mikado in anything anyway.

He really should have let Kida walk away then. And either leave the hospital as well and never go back or head to Mikado’s room to pick up the pieces to glue them back together one day just the way he always wanted them.

What he certainly shouldn’t have done was doing his best to grant Mikado’s wish.

But Mikado’s apparent belief that he could ensnare just about anyone was so endearing, though he really shouldn’t have treated it like a challenge.

Still, in the end he took a step forward and grabbed Kida’s hand, the memory of the heartbreak on Mikado’s face propelling him forward.

“What are you doing?” Kida yanked it out of his grasp immediately.

“You shouldn’t leave,” Aoba said earnestly.

“Mikado told you to stop me?” Understanding flashed in Kida’s eyes.

“He did,” Aoba admitted.

“I wouldn’t think you cared.”

“You know very little about me, Kida-senpai, so maybe refrain from making such assumptions. Because I do care. And Mikado-senpai told me to do whatever it takes. I know of ways for you to make money.”

“I’m not interested.”

“It’s nothing illegal.”

“That’s not the problem. I don’t want to have anything to do with you or your gang, Kuronuma. Saki doesn’t either. Imagine why.”

“It’s been Mikado-senpai’s gang for a while now, actually,” Aoba pointed out, though at this point that was a blatant lie. “And he wants the two of us to reconcile and for you to stay. Can’t you do that for him? Is that too much to ask? From your best friend? After what he’s been through? With how he’s stuck here for who knows how much longer?”

“I have my own problems,” Kida said, looking at Aoba closely.

Aoba bet he didn’t expect him being like that.

“I don’t want him to get involved,” Kida declared again.

“But me, I should be fair game, right?” Aoba asked. “Since you wouldn’t care even if I ran into trouble or met some terrible end.”

“What’s your point, Kuronuma?”

“Stay.”

“Because you of all people are asking me to?”

“Because when you leave and I go back to Mikado’s room, this will go a certain way you may not like at all, senpai.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Mikado-senpai already kissed me once. And he told me all about you two. When did it happen between the two of you anyway? How young were you exactly?”

Kida paled.

“If you stay, I may not be interested in Mikado anymore,” Aoba said and licked his lips. “You can keep me away from him. But it’s your choice.”

“You’re sick, Kuronuma,” Kida hissed.

“No, I am just loyal to Mikado." Aoba smiled. "Unlike you.”


End file.
